


Falling for Make-Believe

by sweetdreamsaremadeoffish



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Adorable and Dumb, Adventures, Cute, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Have I mentioned fluff?, Kids, Magic, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Tea Parties, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Zelda is Leticia's mom canon can fight me, and some sexual tension i guess, but nothing shmexy here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2019-11-13 16:38:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetdreamsaremadeoffish/pseuds/sweetdreamsaremadeoffish
Summary: Human children believe in magic, understand it, play with it, see it in all its supposedly impossible glory, but when they grow up, they tend to forget.Sometimes, witches do too.





	1. playing a fool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just silly and not super coherent or high-quality writing, but it’s cute. That’s got to count for something, right? It’s also rife with flashbacks and flashforwards, so…  
> Honestly, just good luck.
> 
> Title from Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “Cinderella”.

Children were far more perceptive than Zelda would have liked. When Sabrina was very young, Hilda had insisted on allowing the girl to attend a human school—yet another break in tradition for the halfling child—and Zelda quickly discovered there was more to the snot-nosed, unfinished mortals than met the eye. Sabrina would come home each day with a new report; her new friends discussed unicorns, fairies and the like as often as snacks and finger-painting.

With their knowledge of magical creatures, however fragmented, Zelda knew it would only be a matter of time before the conversation turned to witches.

She demanded that they remove Sabrina from the school at once, but Hilda soothed her, assuring her that the children were only playing, pretending. Apparently, mortal children “pretended” quite often. Zelda did not ask how her sister knew such things, but relented. Hilda was comfortable with human customs where Zelda was not, and despite her centuries of disparaging remarks viciously flung at the younger witch, she trusted her judgement in the care and keeping of their niece.

She almost envied the aptitude of Hilda’s tender heart.

 

 

Saturday morning at the Spellman house was a frenzy. Hilda laced up the back of her dress with a muttered enchantment as she laid breakfast on the table, music from Ambrose’s stereo rattling through the house. He’d been up all night in the morgue and needed the rousing noise to carry him through the early hours of groggy routine. Sabrina bolted into the kitchen for all of thirty seconds, snatching a warm pastry and pressing a rushed kiss to her blonde aunt’s cheek.

Zelda was an island of stoicism in her stormy familial sea, news of faraway lands spread across the paper before her.

“I’ll be back tonight, aunties,” Sabrina declared from the doorway, shrugging her red coat over her shoulders.

“Behave yourself, Sabrina,” Came the reply from behind the exposé on a Polish painter’s mysterious murder.

Hilda’s smile was colored with fond exasperation. “Let’s steer clear of shenanigans today, eh, love?”

“Yes, Aunt Hilda. I promise.”

Sabrina threw open the door and nearly collided with her history teacher.

“Ms. Wardwell?”

“Sabrina, hello,” The woman’s long coat was cinched tight at her waist. Her student met her eyes in something of a daze, confusion clouding her mind before the memory snapped into focus.

“I still have your book on familiar physics, don’t I? The one I promised I’d have back on your shelf yesterday?”

“You do, my dear.” There was no sourness, no malice in the brunette’s voice.

“Sabrina, who’s there?” A voice called from the recesses of the house, followed by the hasty click of heels on ancient oak floors.

“It’s Ms. Wardwell,” Sabrina dashed upstairs. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Zelda was struck by the comfortable air that surrounded Mary Wardwell, standing unannounced in the entryway of a home that was not hers. In the years after Sabrina’s Baptism, the witch had appeared often, always coming to the teen’s assistance when some mischievous scheme turned sour. She was an ever-present wellspring of all things magical and forbidden.

“Ms.Wardwell” had become “Mary” to the Spellman sisters at her own insistence, but Zelda could never recall when exactly it had occurred. She blended into the landscape of their lives until it seemed there had never been a time without her visitations. The eldest Spellman realized that if the nuisance were to vanish as she had appeared, she would miss her.

She would miss her quite a lot. As one might miss an arm or a leg.

Or a sister.

The two women stood at opposite ends of the foyer, each quieted by her own thoughts, until the whirlwind known as “Hurricane Leticia” swept across the mismatched antique rugs.

“Mommy!” Letty, freshly awake, leapt into Zelda’s arms, dark eyes sparkling with excitement. “Can we have our tea party, today? Please, please, pleeease?!”

At the arch of a fiery brow, the little girl quickly sobered, schooling her pixie-like features to her mother’s satisfaction.

“Perhaps later, Leticia, darling. We have company,” Zelda reasoned, shifting the child onto her hip to give her a better view of their guest.

Letty waved cheerfully to Mary, then turned back to her mother with a roll of her eyes. “It’s just Miss Mary, mommy. She can play with us!”

Mary smirked in amusement, a single chestnut lock following the curve of her jaw. “I’d be delighted to join you for tea,” She glanced at Zelda innocently. “Provided that mommy doesn’t mind.”

The redheaded witch eyed Mary, attempting to gauge her intentions, Leticia practically vibrating against her side in anticipation.

“Very well.”

With a squeal of joy, Letty scrambled to the floor, accompanied by the kitchen dish cupboard’s clattering as its doors swung open wide to allow a flurry of blue and white china into the parlor. The toddler giggled happily as the tea set assembled midair and settled delicately on the low glass coffee table. Mary followed Zelda’s lead, forgoing a place in one of the high-backed armchairs to join Leticia on the floor. Letty crawled to kneel beside Mary.

“You’re so pretty. You’re the princess.” The girl nodded as if in agreement with herself before raising her small hands over Mary’s head. “Domina noc, nocti--”

“Would you like some help will the spell, dear?” Zelda asked gently. Leticia shook her head, thick black ringlets bouncing frantically. She bit her lip in concentration.

“Domina noctis sur- Domina noctis surgam. Domina noctis surgam!”

A glittering circlet lighted atop Mary’s head. She stared past the little girl and up at her preening mother, shocked. Zelda’s smugness lingered like the sun on her skin.

“You’re her knight in shining armor, mommy. You do the rescuing and fancy magic kisses.”

The witch’s confidence faltered when Mary’s icy gaze skated over her, heart stuttering, stumbling in her chest when her eyes flicked to the woman’s deep red lips.

The “princess” came to her aid.

“What would bring such a gallant knight to tea, Letty?” Mary asked, surveying Zelda through fluttering lashes. “Wouldn’t she have ever so many damsels to rescue at this time of day?”

“She already rescued you, and you invited her to stay for tea. To thank her. You’re a polite princess,” Leticia explained sagely.

“Oh, indeed? How very civilized of me.”

 

 

The brilliance of the day dimmed, adventures laid to rest, tucked snugly into bed with their young dreamer, and Zelda found Mary Wardwell on the front porch. The sun brushing the horizon, the blaze of sunset against her wild curls, and the smoke swirling between them reminded Zelda of human children and their fairy tales.

“I’d say this is the perfect light for a ‘fancy, magic kiss’, wouldn’t you?” Mary’s voice was mellow and inviting, but beneath the surface of her words there was no request. It was a demand, a decree. Zelda had never comprehended the appeal of monarchy—she’d found the eighteenth century particularly troublesome in the way of royalty—but there, in the dying glow as Mary’s crown faded into shards of starlight and rose toward the moon’s distant shadow, she understood.

She was powerless to refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I make up a spell to summon a sparkly tiara for a satanic princess? Yes, yes I did.


	2. with love everlasting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s been a minute (or, y'know, almost two months), but I was prompted to finish this, and I was determined to come through.
> 
> I didn't really know where I wanted it to go when I set out to write another chapter, but we got some more fluffy Madam Spellmans moments, so I’m erring on the side of calling it a success.
> 
> Let me know if you agree?

The trio of witches finished their tea, adhering to their roles as Letty instructed, but the youngster was still restless.

“We should go on an adventure,” Leticia announced. Her face was a veritable kaleidoscope of icings from the numerous tiny cakes she’d consumed over the past hour or so.

“What sort of adventure, dear?” Mary spoke with lilting mischief, readily awaiting her assignment to the role of conspirator.

“Like the ones in storybooks. An epic adventure,” the little girl tilted her head as she considered her choices. “One with monsters.”

“Sweetheart,” her mother murmured, inching closer, “there are plenty of monsters right here.”

Zelda snatched her daughter into her arms and tickled her mercilessly, sending the child into fits of shrieking laughter. She squirmed in an effort to escape, but Mary joined in, and Leticia was a giggling wreck in a matter of seconds.

Once they relented, gasping for breath, Letty soldiered on. “I want to show Miss Mary our playground, mommy.” Zelda glanced at Mary, the momentary mirth of their shared attack melting away much too soon. Leticia’s little hands wrapped around her fingers and wide fawn-like eyes ensnared her heart. She sighed in defeat, pulling the child to her and dropping light kisses on her eyelids. Letty clapped in excitement as her mother set her down at her side. Both Spellmans turned then to Mary and extended open palms to their guest, one tiny and eager, the other smooth and steady. Mary knelt, taking her place and closing the small circle as the three witches joined hands. The little girl wriggled with anticipation. 

“Close your eyes,” Letty directed, in a child’s blundering whisper.

Zelda hushed her and recited a spell under her breath. Mary did as she was told.

Not a moment later, Lilith peeked cautiously, watching reality ripple across the room. The long, narrow floorboards warped beneath their feet, cracking and disappearing under a thick carpet of rich emerald grass. Beige wallpaper peeled and shredded, its remains undulating in the thrall of Zelda's spell to imitate the coarse, worn bark of birches. The walls took the form of a forest and the stained glass pentagram set into the ceiling split into fractals of prismatic sunlight. Once the transformation was complete, the Spellmans’ familiar parlor had vanished entirely. In its place was a bright glade, ringed by a vast, white wood. A single path wound between the marbled trees and into the distance. 

Letty was up in an instant, sweet blades of jade curling between her bare toes as she scampered to the seam of soil and sward. Mary took the hand Zelda offered, still rather spellbound by the sudden transfiguration, and pulled herself to her feet.

“Leticia, if memory serves, the knights in your fairytales have familiars of a sort. They’re primarily called upon for transport?” Zelda inquired, sweeping a silky auburn wave back with a flick of her wrist.

Her daughter nodded eagerly. “Horses.”

“Well, it would appear I am in need of one.”

But the child shook her head, youthful imagination sparking wildly. “No, mommy. We’ve got something much better than a horse.” The other two witches exchanged a look before following Letty’s wondering eyes to the sky above them.

A massive mossy shadow hung over their clearing. The beast landed without the slightest disturbance to a single fallen leaf. It bowed its great, scaled head to Zelda, keeping one molten, silvery eye on her companions. With a quick reassuring smile from her daughter, Zelda reached out and laid her hand on the cool plates of its brow. “Better than a horse, indeed.”

The dragon blinked in a slow, measured manner, much like a cat. Letty clambered onto its back and sat between a pair of olive spines, while Zelda stroked it with quiet reverence.

Lilith couldn’t help but stare.

It had been ages since she’d seen a dragon. Feral memories of riding legions of them into battle, fighting at Lucifer’s side to purge Hell of its few remaining purities in the early days, flooded over her. She didn’t notice herself shaking.

Zelda, blissfully unaware of her secret, took the slight trembling to be anxiousness, even fear. Few witches had encountered these creatures. Parting from the fire-breather, Zelda went to Mary’s side, taking her hand gently, guiding her atop the dragon and into place nearby Leticia.

“Well, whoever said chivalry was dead?” Mary said softly. Zelda squeezed her hand, warm and unwavering as she mounted the beast, perching in the graceful curve of its neck.

The dragon extended two slender tendrils as reins toward the witch’s hands. Zelda took hold of them and charged into the clouds.

 

 

Their newfound friend landed in the center of a fairy village. Early May was the advent of the Fey folks’ time, and the town was swathed in a dazzling assortment of ribbons, fresh wildflower honey, and leprechaun gold.

Leticia scurried into the crowd, slipping through glittering wings and disgruntled dwarves to reach a rickety cart selling chocolates and pomegranate. Fairy festivals were the girl’s favorite and Zelda’s nightmare. Letty was a wanderer, and the fey did so love their changelings. She and Mary trailed her daughter through the magical masses and caught up to her in a music shop, a satyr sweetly serenading her on a carefully carved syrinx. The witches swept Letty up and carried her between them until they’d cleared the festivities’ outskirts.

They walked through the trees for a while and found an oasis past the underbrush. A waterfall that caught the afternoon sun in the diamond depths of a sapphire pool at its base. The three shed their heaviest layers and swam, indulging in the shallow waters.

When they made to depart, the witches were halted by the appearance of a jewel encrusted sword. It seemed to sprout from the earth, a small scepter balanced across its hilt. Zelda scrutinized the scene before bestowing the scepter upon Leticia, sending the girl into a fit of glee, and sheathing the sword in a cautiously conjured scabbard at her hip.

Lilith saw a castle, a stronghold looming at the top of a distant hill and knew the Spellmans’ destination.

 

 

Leticia conjured up more monsters to befriend, men to battle, and magical places to see with the combined illusionary power of her princess and their shared guardian. She was exhausted afterward, and Zelda brought her to bed, the rampant magic of their imaginary world dissipating as the day drew to a close, the parlor resurfacing just as it had been. She bundled the little girl in blankets, pressing a doting kiss to her forehead.

“Goodnight, my little adventuress.”

 

 

“All that for a child?” Mary asked, nestled into Zelda’s shoulder as the sheets cooled around them.

Zelda narrowed her eyes, bracing herself for a challenge, for judgement. “Of course.”

But Mary just smiled against her skin. “She’s lucky.”

“No,” Zelda whispered to the night, after her lover was asleep, “I am.”

 

 

Zelda found a new appreciation for the fanciful delights of childhood, even as it drifted ever further from her reach. Leticia created stories, entire worlds in an evening, her wit surpassed only by the capacity of her imagination. At bedtime, Zelda would leave a trace of magic in her goodnight kiss, gently weaving her daughter’s daydreams into sweet sleeping symphonies. Then, she’d retire to the sanctuary of Mary’s arms, her faint, sleeping breath anchoring her to a reality beyond her wildest fantasies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t forget to brush your teeth, put on some lotion, and hydrate, kids.
> 
> Love, Ruby


End file.
